Pressing Issues
by erica1531
Summary: Utter TM fluff as they discuss marriage. Tony is awkward. Michelle is snarky.


**A/N:**_ Pure, unadulterated fluff, because the idea struck me suddenly and _Beginning's End_ is so damn depressing. I think I needed to write a little fluff for my own sanity. I swear, I'm spending so much time with_BE_ that it's going to send me spiraling into a deep depression. It's so gloomy.Enough of that! Let us commence with the romantic comedy!_

* * *

"What do you mean, could we _actually _get married?" Michelle demanded, laughing, as she kicked at his leg, dangling into the water beside her own.

"Well, I mean, isn't there all that stuff you're supposed to agree on first?" asked Tony uncertainly, staring off at the horizon.

"What stuff?" she probed, still amused.

"You know…"

"No, I don't." Michelle rolled her eyes at Tony's groping. How could a man so goddamned good at fieldwork _and_ data analysis _and_ management suck so much at simple communication? Tony outside of his work was like a poet without words- or, more precisely, an agent without a mission. _Or_ a primary objective.

To say that it was entertaining would be more than a bit of an understatement. _Men_, she thought to herself. And aloud: "What? You tell me and I'll see if we agree."

"Well, kids, for one."

Michelle was silent for a moment. _Kids._ That was the hard one. She sighed. "Someday, I guess. I mean, I want to have a baby… I've always wanted a baby. Just not now; it wouldn't work…"

"No, I know. I just didn't know if… do you want kids, ever?"

"Do you? She asked seriously.

"Yeah," he admitted, blushing slightly, "Not now, though."

"Makes sense. That's about where I am."

They were silent for a few minutes, thoughts in the same place. They both wanted children, but even then, they both knew they would never have them. But as long as they never completely wrote off the idea, it was still possible that _someday_ it could work…

Michelle splashed her feet in the water, and was struck with a sudden longing for the child she'd never have. Unconsciously, her hand brushed over her lower abdomen and she could feel the beginnings of tears forming behind her eyes.

But she blinked them back, and reassumed her previous flippant tone. "Okay, so what else?"

"I don't know… money."

"Money?" Michelle returned, incredulous. "Tony, you _pay_ me. You do realize that, don't you?"

"Yeah… but I don't know; you're supposed to talk about it, though, aren't you?"

"Tony… okay… let's talk about it. You're three pay grades above me because of that fun little word, "director." I know how much you make; you know how much I make. Hell, if you wanted, you could probably just hack into my bank account and find out where I spend my money…"

"Hey, I have clearance to find that out! I wouldn't have to hack it!"

"Not that you could, anyway," retorted Michelle, "You'd probably make Chloe do it."

"Like Chloe would do anything offbook, ever," he laughed.

Ignoring him, she continued. "But point being, I don't think there's any big secrets about money. It's not like I told you I was an attorney, but really I work at Burger King. Or you took me on dates you couldn't afford and I got delusional about how much money you make. Or that I'm spending my money to, like, fund a meth lab or something…"

"I get it!"

"Okay… so what other pressing issues to we have to discuss?"

"…politics?"

"Uh… I support David Palmer because he's the reason I have a job? I support the counterterrorism branch of the government? I think the LA branch should get more funding to spend on the salaries of its workers so they don't have to talk about money before they get married?"

"Michelle, be serious."

"I am being serious! Do you even realize how ridiculous it is for us to be discussing _politics_? Like, Tony, that's our _lives._ We do politics for a living. Together. Over fifty hours a week. I think we've got a pretty good grip on—"

"I _get _it Michelle!"

"Anything else we have to talk out before you pop the question?"

"Are we supposed to agree on religion?"

Michelle burst out laughing so hard she slid off the edge of the dock, drenching her bikini-clad self. She came up sputtering, trying to breath through her laughter. She climbed back onto the dock, and stretched out on her tummy, laughing until she cried and finally managed to answer Tony.

"I'm… not… religious…" she choked out. "I can't believe you asked me… oh my god. Am I religious? Oh my god… oh my god, can you picture me going to _church_? So I can, like, kill the infidels? The Muslims? Oh, wait, I already do that when… hey, maybe I should convert to Islam! That would be fun! I hear religion works magic on the good of society… you know, motivating people to do good and be tolerant and all that…" Michelle was laughing so hard she could barely get the words "…but for the moment, I'm not religious, no." Michelle wiped away tears, but was suddenly struck with a horrible thought. Mortified, she froze before eking out: "Are you?"

"No."

"I think we're good, then!"

* * *

**A/N:** _I'm much more of an angst writer, and fluff is unchartered territory for me, so it would be much appreciated if you'd drop me a review and let me know how I did._


End file.
